


Good Boy Baby Blue

by frivolyy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Beating, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Sucking, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Drugged Sex, F/M, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Orgasm, Forced Prostitution, Gags, Gang Rape, Gang Violence, Gangbang, Kidnapping, Rape, Sexual Enslavement, Spanking, Torture, pretty brutally too, so watch your step!!, uhh lance gets his ass pounded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-12-31 16:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12135984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frivolyy/pseuds/frivolyy
Summary: The Lovely Ladies of Lotor capture Lance, bind him, fondle him, and have endlessly vicious sex with him. (the ladies dick him good)Was in a very femdom mood, it was written pretty feverishly. Update: it's completed in all its smutty glory!!The ladies like it rough and romantic, they fawn over Lance the same way I would ;)Blatantly Non-Con (especially in part two) so =^]Enjoy!





	1. Part One

Lance woke to biting pressure at his wrists, his elbows, his ankles. His neck. His tongue. He could only strain against it slightly, it was thick and harsh and it hurt more each time he shifted. A cold slab of metal lay under him, some sort of high table in the middle of a large dark room, he could barely touch the ground. On the walls different colors of light winked at him. 

The last thing he could remember was his gun flying through the air, he saw it land in a shattering clunk across the room, it still rang in his ears. A Galran charging him, a hand at his throat and another at his hip, an explosion of pain in his gut. A smell of sweat and something like sweetened wet dirt. Another explosion, this time behind his right ear. Then black nothing.

He couldn’t see much now but he could hear electric buzzing, it thrummed against his ears in waves. After a while heavy footsteps against tile joined it, threaded through it louder and louder. Lance’s obstinance and optimism caused him to imagine it being Shiro, Hunk, God even fucking Keith, he imagined being whisked away like some dumb damsel, he wished he could do the fake faint thing they all do, with a hand to their forehead, he’d do it right when whoever it was walked through the door, right into their arms. He tried to laugh at the thought of toppling Pidge to the ground, but he couldn’t get himself to.

Then the one set of steps was joined by another, then another, then one final set and he shook, his fear of spiders swiped across his eyes, a ridiculous thought of a giant arachnid alien, the legs spiky and clawed at the end. 

A giggle, a burst of air at a door, it clanged against the wall. A light from overhead was switched on, bathing the room in soft dark purple.

“Ah, what a sight! Isn’t he just somethin’, ladies?”

“I’m so excited we got the blue one! Baby Blue, ah so precious!”

“Please calm yourselves, we can’t be caught doing this, we weren’t given authorization.”

As the voices descended upon him, all feminine, all excited, sharp cold nails grazed between his shoulder blades, up the nape of his neck, they tickled his ear, pinched his cheek. It shocked him into realizing he was completely naked.

“We were given clearance to torture him, yeah? Well that’s still the plan, Acxa, don’t you worry.” The voice, too distant to be the owner of the fondler, was robust and boastful, Lance had heard it before. Right before he went under back at the battle, the huge gruesome Galran had leaned in over him, she had laughed and whispered, “See you soon, boy.”

His breathing hitched as the fingers roaming his face suddenly tugged back at the rope in his mouth, his neck arched out, his exposed throat was met with a pointed nail stroking it up and down.

“Hey, sweetness,” a light voice breathed into his ear. “Are you ready for some fun?”

He turned as much as he could to look at the Galran, a slim pinkish monster, her yellow eyes wide and greedy.

“I knew I’d get to love you right, Baby Blue.”

Lance shook his head away from her touch. “Geh o...hh.. ee.”

“Get off of you? Those words don’t mean much now, cutie.” She winked and grabbed his throat hard and suddenly a heavy wave of drugged air hit him, his rigid body went soft, his eyelids hung low, he felt his soul melt. It lasted only moments but it left him tired, sore.

“Ezor cut it out! We gotta feed it to him slow, I want the fight in him to last, dammit.”

Ezor stood up, her hip jutted out in defiance. “Don’t start, Zethrid, I’m begging you, this is supposed to be fun. Don’t ruin it with your hard fucking head.”

“Ezor, don’t you test me-”

“Enough, girls! I can call this off right now, is that what you want?”

Zethrid shook it off, she grunted and hung her head. “Sorry A, we just gotta get fuckin’ to it I think, I can’t bear it much longer.”

Acxa leaned back, composing herself as well. She looked over at Lance, his soft warm skin made her mouth water, subdued quintessence radiated from him with his every nervous breath.

“Would you like to go first then?”

“No!” Ezor shouted. “She’ll wear him out, he’ll be a rag doll by the time she’s through. Make her go last.”

Zethrid rolled her eyes but threw up her hands. “That’s fine by me, I don’t think he could handle me first anyway.” She nodded up at Acxa. “Why don’t you do the honors, boss. Break him in.”

Lance shivered and tried to writhe, the cold words pricking his skin with shame and anger. He grunted and growled at them, it made Ezor giggle.

Acxa tried to hide her excitement but the veil was thin and wavering, she looked around and nodded at each of them, she smiled as she strode over and bent to breathe Lance in. He was whining now, his temples were slick with sweat, he was eyeing her wildly, those alluring blue eyes made her sigh into them. His gagged words sounded pleading, already exhausted. 

She began to unzip her suit, the metallic buzz hurt Lance to the core. She was tall and sharp and coldly beautiful. He turned away from her and closed his eyes tight, straining his ears to hear anything outside of the walls, any footsteps coming to save him from this. There was something holding his body from kicking and screaming, his heart felt tight. Had they given him something? To stun him? To induce shock? But he knew what it really was, he felt it deep inside him, bubbling up, debilitating fear fizzled on his skin.

Something large and soft and hot was placed between his hands, he jerked and tried to flair his hands out and away but the ropes made it impossible. Acxa laid her weight into him, pressed one of her hands into his ribs, massaged the ridges, her other hand began to knead his thigh before inching gently upward.

“I’m also very glad we got you, blue paladin,” she whispered into his ear. “Something about you, your petite ears, your quick bouncy gate, your smooth dark skin, your eager voice.”

She began moving, the thickness in his hands slid back and forth, it began to harden, the skin stretched thin as it grew even bigger. She continued to knead the firm flesh of his hips and thighs. Heat crept up into his cheeks, behind his eyes, it hurt to blink. He wanted to buck her off, he wanted to scream obscenities, he wanted to tear his fingernails to pieces freeing himself from his ropes. But in the moment his desires hit their peak, suddenly another wave of pleasured warmth washed over him. He felt a swell of silky yearning, he smelled sweetly spoiled fruit, it made his eyes water, his tongue loll out.

He groaned against the pheromones, Acxa was so pleased at the sound.

She snuck her fingers under him and gently tugged at his nipple, she tickled the tip with her nail. He squirmed and moaned, the sensation sent him mindless and giddy. His richly muscled movement felt so splendid against Axca’s skin.

“Aww!!” squealed Ezor. She clapped, thrilled.

Acxa continued on. She massaged his nipple between her fingers, pulled and pressed it down against the cold metal while she worked her other hand up between Lance’s legs and parted them, her fingers caressed between his cheeks. He shuddered as she tenderly pinched the plushy skin of his sack. She cooed in his ear as she harassed him more and more.

“Your body just seems so… desperate. It begs to be touched, doesn’t it?" 

“Ah..ahh…” he groaned, mortified.

“It’s always in the back of your mind, under your skin.”

“Nngh..ah…” Exasperated.

“I don’t think you mean for it to, you can’t help it.”

“Uu.hhhh.sg.…” Angry.

“I wonder what it feels like to be so pathetically needy.”

“Hhh...ggh...” Furious.

“Why don’t you show me how desperate you are.”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lip snarled as a clawed finger made its way inside him and he squeezed his fingers as tight as he could around her cock.

Acxa hissed and jumped back from him. Ezor gasped, she threw her hands to her face. 

Zethrid stifled a laugh. “Woah, guess the fight’s strong in this one after all!”

“Maybe he deserves a bit of spanking after that, what’dya say?” Ezor said, fanning herself.

Acxa sighed deeply and threw her head back in an aggressive shake. “No. No, I’m ready to punish him properly.” She grabbed more rope and hastily tied his fingers together, hands clasped. Lance cried out as she bashed his head down against the metal, her claws raking against his scalp, pulling at his hair. She lathered up her cock, pressed it against his hole and with another gush of sickeningly sweet pheromones she slammed her entirety into him.

He choked out sobs at the force, twinges of tickling pain seized his spine again and again. He felt his organs pushed in all directions, an immense pressure dug at his belly. 

Acxa began at a frenzied pace, her excitement and lust clouding her usual utilitarian conduct before she slowly established a strong, violent stroke.

He felt like a dream. He was so warm and soft, so tight. She hadn’t felt this much pleasure ever in her life, never allowed herself to, she craved him the more she had him, she squeezed and massaged him all over. She wrapped a hand around his neck in ownership and held him tight, forgiving him for hurting her, forgiving herself that she didn’t capture him sooner. He smelled like clean sea water and light boyish soap. His sticky breath smelled like sweet tea. She loved him and would have told him so if one else was around. It went on and on and she hoped to fuck him forever.

She loomed over him close, her hand still clasped in his hair, she breathed hard and hot against his neck. The commanding rhythm seemed to scratch an itch inside him, he tried to shy away from it, the hot friction unbearable, he thought he would combust.

Lance continued to cry and shake as she fucked him hard, hiccupping gasps at the pheromones overstimulating him. He had never felt like this, he realized through the haze that he never even considered his body going through anything like this. His limbs were jittery, his insides hurt in such a satisfying way, he was delirious, hypersensitive. His own cock flushed and filled, it was painful and pulsing. Ezor cheered and giggled, praised him for being so good, so sweet. Zethrid calmly stroked herself and smirked.

Axca’s angry grunts punched against the air as she got close, her cock swelled, her lips curved up into a fierce smile.

“You (thrust) sure (thrust) showed (thrust) me (thrust), didn’t (thrust) you.” And with a final agonizing blow, she came fiercely inside him, massive amounts of it flowed into the deepest parts of him, it sizzled against his sensitive inner flesh. He cried out in a rattled, breathy moan as he came with her, it splashed against the tile beneath him. She melted at the sight. She pulled out slowly, kissing his spine along the way, her thick cum oozed down his thighs.

Lance wheezed and gulped, he was dizzy and exhausted, the pheromones filtered through his sweat and into the heavy sticky air and he was left aching and incredibly sore. 

Ezor clapped and jumped. “Beautifully done, boss! What a show! Ah, I can’t wait!” 

Lance panted and glared at them all. He wanted to refuse, for it to matter for him to refuse. He’d beg if he had to, he wanted to fight, he was so weak but...he could… could he get them to stop? The solid foundation of confidence he’d built his life on had just taken such a horrific blow, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of anymore.

Too quickly Ezor raced over to him and ran her hands up and down his back, dancing and giggling, it tickled every nerve in his body and he shook in fits.

“hhShh..to..p! ...l.e..ase...I...ca..ngt…” He cried, even as resignation flooded through him.

“Man, we should get some music goin’, I’d love to fuck you to some boppy tunes, pretty baby!” She ignored him and danced over to the wall, a screen lit up. She typed and swiped and found a bubblegum song, it was bright and loud and sung in an alien language, it sounded cute, happy, vicious. 

“Are you fucking serious, girl? This is the worst.” Zethrid shouted over it, rolling her eyes.

“It’s my time with him so shut the hell up,” she laughed as she made her way back over to Lance. Ezor flung all her clothes off and then quickly pushed him up onto the table and rolled him over onto his back. The new position exhilarated his skin, he shivered at the shock. She crawled onto him and began kissing his neck and cheek and nose in swift light pecks. She could barely contain herself but she wanted to make her time with him last, she figured he would be put to death here pretty soon.

“Bet that was fun, honey bun, but you’ve never been with the likes of me!” she whispered so only he could hear her snicker. She touched him all over, she delighted in every Human mole and freckle she saw. She caressed his funny little ears, his bony elbows, she traced the cute jut of his hips, she tickled his sweet little belly button. She molested every part of him, he was too fucking beautiful.

Lance was so ashamed and nervous and aching, his face flushed red, he strained his neck away from her. In the corner of his eye he could see her cock, thinner than Acxa’s but a good deal longer. His nostrils flared, his eyes watered.

Ezor surprised him by removing the rope in his mouth, he sputtered and winced, his saliva was thick and cold. A new rush of energy crashed against the sudden freedom.

“Get the fuck off me!” Lance went mad, he used what he had left, he tried to hide the terror inside him but his voice cracked and the high octave gave it away. “Get off! Don’t touch me you fucking freak shows! Animals! Get-”

In a split of an instant Ezor raised something up to his throat, a strange jagged knife he hadn’t noticed before. A gasp hitched in his throat, a tear streamed down his face. He could hear Zethrid laughing.

Ezor tutted her tongue at him, she massaged his sore cheeks, squeezed them and kissed his lips. “Right when I do you a solid, this is what I get?” She pouted as she wiped at his tears. “I didn’t do it to hear you gab, baby, at least not yet.” She hoisted herself up on her knees and bent over him, she crawled up until her cock hung down on his face, she smacked it against his cheek.

Acxa’s heart plummeted. She wished she had thought of doing this, she suddenly ached for it.

“Ah, yesss.” Zethrid cheered. She knew she could count on Ezor’s spunk.

“Come on, cuteness, you can do it. Let’s see that pretty mouth get to some real work.”

“Fuck you,” Lance said through gritted teeth then sealed his lips tight, his face throbbed in humiliation, his tears burned. He couldn’t comprehend that this was happening to him, the first round already like a distant nightmare. This feral, visceral world was hellish and unbearable, his sobs suffocated him, his throat ached in repulsion.

Ezor pressed the knife into his neck, it stung as it hooked into him, a thin stream of warm blood slid down his skin. And after a hard painful gulp, he relented and opened wide.

She giggled as she eased her cock into her conquest’s mouth, stopping right at his first gag. Nothing ever made her feel so alive as conquering this sweet little Human.

“There we go, sugar, that’s it.” She gently fucked his mouth to the beat of the music, bubbly and sweet, the feeling utterly intoxicating. She had to stop a few times so that she wouldn’t cum too quickly, she made sure to stop at her deepest.

“Moan for me, sweetheart.”

Lance meekly complied, the hum of it made her knees go weak immediately and she fell, her cock slipped deep down his throat. A powerful burst of ecstasy and pheromones radiated through her and out to hit him, but she quickly lifted out of his mouth.

He retched, dry desperate heaves throttled him. Her hot, thick, lascivious chemicals made him want to vomit. 

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry. Just a bit more, dear, ok?” She cupped his chin in her hand and forced him to nod. 

He coughed and gulped, and then she went back to it.

As she felt herself swelling, she hit a few hard thrusts before pulling out. “Open your mouth!” she shouted quickly at him. He did, and she came on his tongue, his cheeks, his nose. A shudder raced from her head to her toes, it made him the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She was so glad she had thought to hit record on the computer, she wanted this image on a poster in her room.

“Gosh, dollface, you really are the best,” she sighed, smearing her cum across his face teasingly, stroking herself to get hard again. She sat back and stroked him too, she marveled at his innocence. 

He bunched his shoulders up and looked away. She tasted like acidic whipped cream, it was fizzy and thick. He hoped she’d turn him back over so he wouldn’t have to look at her, so he could wipe his soaked face onto the table. But she didn’t, and it didn’t take long for her to be fully erect once more. She got into position, slid between his bound ankles, lifted his legs a bit, pressed her body lightly against him and pushed deep inside.

She reached so deep he didn’t know his body went that far, her cock buried itself into another plane of existence, a black hole far within him. His sob drew itself up into a gasp, ecstasy stroked at the soft unknown inner flesh.

Zethrid walked over to them, she stopped close to his face and leaned over, resting one hand at the side of his jolting head and used the other to stroke her cock, making sure it was difficult for him to look away. He shut his eyes tight in hopeless defiance, she smacked the side of his head until he opened them again. As she pressed the tip to his lips Ezor complied, she sat up and pushed him up the table until his head hung down the other end. He cried and choked as Zethrid pushed into his mouth, it hurt his jaw, it felt ready to snap. She fucked his throat too deep, it was all too deep.

Lance was drunk on Ezor’s pheromones, everything was blurry and swaying, he felt seasick, it all pulsated to the poppy, cheerful, menacing music. He felt his blood sloshing, boozy and playful. She fucked him so deep, so deep. Where the tip of Ezor’s cock landed over and over must have been the most sensitive part of his entire being, a tangle of raw molecules electrocuting him with each fast hard thrust. The place it hit and hit and hit was fervent for it, her cock rubbed pleasure deep into his veins.

Ezor groaned and moaned, she filled the room with rhythmic feminine bursts of her voice. Between she’d call him “baby”, “cutie”, “honey”, she’d say “yes, Yes, YES.” Her noises lapped at Lance’s, his sweet round muffled sounds too much for her. She was captivated by the lush warmth deep inside him, the salty sweetness she tasted on his chest, the skin of his cute flat tummy contracting over firm lithe muscles each time she’d fuck into him, it all left her ravenous.

She suddenly pushed Zethrid away, possessive.

“Say something, darling. Talk to me dirty, say..say ‘Give it to me, mama’,” she commanded between shouts of desire.

He gasped and winced with each thrust. “I….ah....ah! I, I can’t….I..don’t...” His cock stung, full as it could be, it waved against his belly, each brush agony. His face turned deep scarlet.

“Say it.” Ezor pinched and rolled his nipple hard, laughing. Sweet sensuous heat washed over his entire body. “Say it!”

“Hnn...ah….g..give it….give..it to me, ah, Ah, mam..ma,” he whispered.

“Say it (thrust) again,” she hissed into his neck, giggling devilishly.

“Give...it, ah! to m..e mama.”

“I wanna hear it, bitch!” Zethrid shouted at him.

Ezor swelled in him, the pressure of her cock’s thickened head rubbing against that sweet spot was exquisite torment, it brought him to the top almost immediately.

“Gi..ve…. it..AHaaaa” He began to quiver uncontrollably as he came, Ezor pressed his cock down so that his cum covered his belly and chest. She came inside him, it filled him up, it felt like molten hot lava and he felt so sick with lust. Zethrid came on his face, her cum mixing with Ezor’s previous round. He hadn’t registered Acxa’s close presence, who’s cum soon mixed with his own on his chest.

Ezor let out a long, refreshed sigh as she sat up beside him. She stroked a nail up and down his trembling leg, he heaved and whimpered. “That was so perfect, sweetness, so so perfect. I even got you to cum first!” She ran her fingers through his soaking wet hair. “It’s exquisite plowin’ a Human boy, so I thank you for that. Truly magic. Stay beautiful, Baby Blue!” And with that she found a patch of skin not quite defiled on his forehead and kissed it before hopping off the table and gathering her clothing.

“Well done, Ezor, well done.” Acxa praised, she had never seen anything like it. Ezor bowed and bowed, grinning as she leisurely walked over to turn the music off.

Zethrid stretched and shook her head. “Dammit, girl, that was impressive. I think he even forgot where he was. Look at him, he’s still shaking!” she laughed. “Narti, would you like to give it a go before I destroy this little boytoy?"

Lance shot his eyes open. There was someone else in the room? He didn’t believe it, they hadn’t said anything this entire time, he hadn’t noticed another figure. He tried to think back to the number of pairs of footsteps he had heard. He had thought about each of his teammates, he missed them all so much, there must have been four.

A figure emerged from the shadows, a hood cloaked its features. It slowly walked toward him, he startled under his ropes, his pain surged. He couldn’t tell what it even was, it seemed...different. 

“Get in there, woman!” Zethrid jeered on.

Narti bent over him, she appeared to be gazing at him. But as he focused in Lance was able to see blank swaths of skin where her eyes should have been. He glowered in disgusted fear, her hideous mouth looked made specifically to tear into his flesh. A small figure appeared over her shoulder, that creature had striking eyes that shown in the dim light.

“Ah, N..no-” As she reached for him he winced and turned away, reflexive and defeated. But instead of teeth, a smooth cool cloth met his skin. She carefully, gently wiped the fluid off his face, making sure to get it all. She glided it across his skin. She tended to his stomach, dabbed at his belly button to soak up any cum. She moved down to his hips and washed him, careful to not touch him in any sort of violating way. She got down to his thighs and soaked up the best she could what had leaked out of him. He watched her and began to cry.

She looked up at him, as did the small creature. She moved back up and placed her hands beside each of his shoulders and he got the sudden urge to reach out for her, to hug her. She had made everything settle, a serene fatigue filled the room. Even the other Galrans were calm and silent.

Narti bent down to meet his watery eyes. She touched his wet cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Lance couldn’t believe it but he wanted it, it was though he had innocently asked for a goodnight embrace. She didn’t move her mouth as it met him, she didn’t move anything, just nestled her face lightly into his. Her pheromones pulsed gently against his bare skin but didn’t penetrate. He felt what he guessed were the whiskers of her pet brush against his neck. The sensitive pain in his limbs, his back, his hips felt magnified, it all weighed heavy against his muscles, his bones. After several quiet, extended moments she stood back up and slowly walked back to her shadow.

It was as if he’d never known a kindness before, it left him breathless.

“Well, that was lovely, Narti, thanks for bein’ a pal, he looks brand new,” Zethrid sighed, she darted her wicked eyes at Lance and leered, raised an eyebrow. “Sorry I gotta dirty him up again.”

She strode with purpose over to him and forcefully grabbed his thigh, squeezing hard.

The pain brought him crashing back to his nightmare.

“Ah.. ah! God please stop!” he cried, choking on a sob.

She leaned in close, pressed her teeth into his cheek “How’s it goin’, slut? You havin’ fun yet?” She grabbed him by the throat with her other hand.

“Get...away..ah…...please...” He was too tired, too miserable and cold and sick. He was desperate for the eyeless Galran to come back, to touch him with soft affection. He’d pretend it was his mom.

Zethrid slapped him across the face. “Why are you still on about this? Dammit, calm yourself, it can’t be helped now, boy.”

She let go of his thigh to squeeze his cock. He screamed, his whole body shivered in pain. She smiled and choked him hard to silence him, screeches of cold sticky breath escaped his throat. He ground his teeth and shut his eyes, tears fell in droves down his cheeks.

“I saw how much you liked getting fucked, it was so disgusting and hot.” She pressed her massive cock into his inner thigh. “Were you a filthy whore back on your ship? You’re certainly a filthy whore on this one.” She finally let go and grabbed his arm to toss him back on his belly.

Lance coughed and choked and sucked in long stressed breaths. Zethrid slid him back down, his feet met the ground but in that groggy moment they couldn’t bear his weight, he buckled. She caught his shoulders, she hauled him back up over the slab of metal. He tried to shrink into himself, the ropes cutting into him as he did so. A rope appeared in front of his eyes for a split second before it was forced between his lips and tied tight behind the base of his head.

“You got a cute voice but I don’t need you pleading on and on to me about this.”

A sharp ugly crack sent a shock down his spine, he didn’t want to look to see what it was, he was five years old again, it didn’t exist if he couldn’t see it.

“Ah, Zethrid! Yay!!” exclaimed Ezor, wriggling her hips.

“Don’t use your entire strength, you’ll kill the boy,” Acxa warned.

He trembled as Zethrid leaned against him, so heavy his breath was pushed back out of him. She laughed quietly in his ear, holding in front of him a thick leather strap. The color drained from his face.

“We’re gonna have a bit of kinky fun before the grand finale.”

“His ass is gonna look so pretty,” Ezor nudged Acxa, giggling.

Zethrid stood back and snapped the leather once more. She reveled in the flinch she caused to ripple through him. He was breathing hard, quaking. If only she could keep him this way forever.

She readied the strap against his ass and again he shuddered, recoiling as best he could, but there was nowhere to go. She raised it high above her head, she held him by the neck, she sent him a huge wave of fiery pheromones before she swung down hard. 

A loud, thunderous snap filled the room followed by a short sharp cry. Already a long lovely welt began to appear on his skin. Lance clawed at the air until his fingers seized. He cried desperately at the harsh sting, words of shock and anguish swirled around the gag until they were nothing.

Zethrid struck him again and again, basking in all its deliciousness for a few moments between each blow. She loved his little shouts and moans and sniffles growing weaker and weaker, she loved watching Acxa and Ezor as they had their turns, she loved seeing him bury his face down into the table, she loved watching his thin sleek physique roil from the cruel potion of pleasure and pain she was feeding him, mixing in his gut. She loved it all so intensely.

Her cock perked each time his ass took another hit, and after a solid thirty whacks she couldn’t take it anymore.

His ass was bright red and she could practically see it pulsing from underneath. Small clouds of purple bruises began slowly creeping across his battered skin.

Lance let out tired, weak whimpers, he couldn’t summon any more strength, it had all left him. His body would disintegrate at the next moment of outer force, whether a belt, a finger, a breath. He withered under the pain, its impact so raw and icy. He wished that the blind Galran had eaten him, that would have been much more sparing than simply cleaning him up for more.

“Aw, come on, slut, you can’t be wrung out just yet, the fun is just beginning!”

She pushed three thick slick fingers into his hole and he wept in short breathy whimpers, he winced as she fanned them, swirled them around. She curled and thrusted them in and out. She pressed against his pelvis until his cock got hard. He pleaded with it to stop, to not do this to him again.

“Shit, you're so fucking tight. This is gonna feel real good, bitch.”

Zethrid pulled her fingers out and held his hips tight, readied herself. Lance was as subdued and tamed as she had ever seen any poor pathetic creature, she smiled at his slack backside. Getting the head in was slow and difficult, but once it popped inside she immediately thrusted completely into him.

Lance seized involuntarily and screamed out, he had broken in half, he couldn’t feel anything below his neck, he saw stars, she had ripped him apart. He was finally going to be able to leave this hell forever. He wanted to reach up, he wanted to see an angel come for him in the form of his lion so he could see it one final time.

But the pain and pleasure slowly rolled back in gushes of pheromones as she slammed into him again and again, his body slid up and down the table, the edge bit into his hips. 

She brought him back onto her cock just as hard as she was ramming into him. She didn’t hold anything back, her rapturous delight tore into him with brutal desire.

She grabbed his upper arms for better leverage, she pulled on them to make him fuck himself on her cock, he hung down from them in limp surrender, his body rocked back and jerked forward, his mind entirely blissed, euphoria radiating deep inside him, it burned hot and ravaging. His insides were molten, his hole was throbbing, screaming it was too much, too big, too rough, every nerve stretched to its limit and massaged into ecstasy. He couldn’t remember his name, his convictions, his life before this. He felt it swirling frenetic in his toes, his fingers, he was feverish, frigid sweat rolled down scorching hot skin. His eyes rolled back, his tongue hung out, cold saliva and sweat dripped onto the table. His body felt so full, so ravished, so completely dominated. He had to take every fierce fuck she laid into him.

Zethrid fucked Lance’s beaten ass savagely, thrusting harder and harder as Ezor and Acxa cheered her on. She slapped his ass and pinched it where she saw the darkest bruise, she sent him gobs of vivid, seductive air, he was drugged and begging for it.

“I...ha…. I knew (thrust) you were (thrust) a whore (thrust) for it,” she panted. Then with a grin she suddenly slowed and tickled his hole with small tender movements, he cried and whined and squirmed for more. She set his arms down and held him close, every atom of his skin begged the universe to get her off of him, his hole contracted and released, trying to solicit more movement, more suffering. She spoke softly into his neck and zings of frantic nerves shot through him.

“If I told you I’d stop right now if you told me to, would you do it?” she snarled, still stroking her cock into him slowly, deliberately. “Just say ‘Stop’ right now, and I’ll stop.”

Lance convulsed and panted and blinked away tears, and after a few short agonizing moments, he struggled against the gag, made it clear as he could. 

“S..t..op.”

Zethrid leaned back up, incredulous, she was amazed at his conviction. She felt impressed, but the feeling was quickly buried beneath her fury. She held him down by his hair and his neck and she drove into him again, carnal and depraved, harder than she ever had. His exquisite wet little sounds, the smell of a stormy sea, steamy quintessence coiling off his skin. She was in love, he felt so fucking perfect, she wanted to drown him with her scent, she wanted his body to melt into hers, she wanted to keep him her mind-numbed sex slave for all time, aching for her always and telling her ‘no’ never.

Zethrid swelled inside him and Lance used the last of his deepest caverns of strength to let out a brutalized cry as every sensitive, stimulated fiber inside him began to quake and ripple in dreamy throngs of pleasure. In one giant burst she shot into him, her cum exploded around where her cock edged taut against his hole. He erupted in thick severe ribbons, painting the floor once again. She pushed into him as hard as she could, he took her to the hilt until it was over.

She collapsed and heaved on top of him. The weight made him feel as if he were buried alive. Light satisfied laughter echoed from all directions, muffled from above ground, from the distance between his consciousness and the surface.

Lance violently spasmed all through Zethrid kissing up his spine, his shoulders, his bruised neck. All through her massaging his bruised arms, his bruised hips. She arched him toward her to look into his eyes, they lolled to the side, dazed, unseeing, his mouth slack. She kissed him, thrusted her tongue in deep, reached until he gagged. Then she finally slid out of him and stood up to compose herself.

They all clapped, clapped for Zethrid, for themselves, for him. They all clapped, all but Narti.

Ezor threw out a sharp whistle at their new possession. “I think you broke him.” She jumped up and down and bit her lip, a slight ring of elated panic in her voice.

“Z, I told you this would happen. Poor little thing,” Acxa sighed as she zipped up and headed for the door.

“Well, I mean I’ll, I’ll you know, ‘check’ on him in a bit,” Zethrid winked at Ezor, who rolled her eyes and chuckled. They made their way through the door and beckoned for Narti.

Narti walked quietly over to Lance's shivering body, she ran a calm hand slowly through his soaked hair, leaned down to the nape of his neck and breathed in deep. She untied his bondage, he slumped to the floor, he was finally able to curl into himself. Then she stood back up and silently walked to the door to her smiling friends, leaving Lance to drift off alone.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is chock full of the girls getting very self-indulgent with Lance’s body, so much so that I thought it best to separate it from the actual sorta plot that I came up with to wrap it all up. So stay tuned for part 3 where real things happen a little I guess!
> 
> I love both cruel and kind adoration, so you’ll see lots of both here :0
> 
> PS this is more ruthless than the last chapter and completely up to the whims of my kinks, idek I was really feelin it, Lance gets fucked up pretty bad, and again very noncon so please proceed with this knowledge!! <3

The coming days, weeks, eternities Lance spent on the Galra ship grew blurry and bleak. He was pricked with long thick needles meant for Galra veins, fed fluids that made him nauseous, tied down to a table of cold harsh porcelain in a new glaring white medical room. Ezor always liked to comment on Lance’s smooth tan skin looking so beautiful against the white before climbing on top of him. She’d roam his skin and every touch felt filthy. His “please”s, “stop”s, “no”s dropped dead to the floor inside these suffocating, sound-proof walls.

Ezor made sure to fuck him every day, she was usually the earliest to get to him. She was the one who untied him the most, and a broken little part of him was grateful whenever she did, but the feeling wouldn’t last for long. She would cover him in lace, dress him up in frilly underwear, uncomfortable garters, tight corsets that crushed his ribs, leashes that she’d pull too hard, ball gags that sprained his jaw. She had locked a collar around his neck, icy pink with a heart-shaped gold tag, she had made him swallow the key. 

He’d struggle and growl every time she forced him into a garment, all of it uncomfortable and humiliating, all of it so far beyond what his dignity could stand. But he never succeeded in persuading her, she would always raise her knife, cut deep into him if he pleaded for too long.

After he was properly dressed she’d stuff a plug into him, wrap a vibrator around his cock, and take picture from all angles. She’d dress herself up as well, she’d light candles and surround them with plushy pillows, she’d videotape them both as she used all kinds of toys on him, it was so romantic, she wanted to give her viewers a good show. She seemed to have an endless supply of ever-thicker dildos and vibrators she’d fuck into him as he dangled helpless in gold leather straps hugged tight around his body. 

She’d make him cum as much as she wanted, she loved seeing the pain in his eyes as they started up again right after his last orgasm. Sex with her got gradually worse, she unlocked more and more sinister whims. She’d even apologize sometimes, although always with an air of giggly insincerity that made his tears brim over. 

He was the cutest, sweetest, most endlessly enjoyable thing in the entire universe. Humans were so pliable and fun and sexy when wrung out like a rag. The more she played with him the more sensitive he became, until he was simply a doll with sore swollen buttons to tweak. 

She often wished she could have Lance all to herself, to keep him on a leash in her room, make him sleep at the foot of her bed, let others fuck him only when she needed favors or extra cash, make him obey and love and worship only her. She frequently begged to purchase him from the others, but alas, Axca wouldn’t hear of it.

...

Ever since they were cleared to do with the paladin whatever they wished, Axca had found herself drowning in daydreams of him, so much so that her calculation and logging duties quickly slipped away from her and she found herself behind. She blamed Lance for the hours she lost thinking about his comely Human form, the tasks she would ignore in favor of having long relentless sex with him, and she ultimately, thankfully found a solution that would punish him and return her to her exemplary structure. 

While she sat at her desk in the corner of the steril little room, sifting through her daily paperwork, she would watch as a brigade of soldiers fucked Lance over and over. She limited these sessions as much as she, and he, could handle, as the soldiers, often male, were fierce and vile, and frequently too big for him. They would get very mean, very rowdy, they’d spit at him and hiss in his face, they’d choke and bite him. She often had to settle them down towards the end of the sessions, they would get so riled she feared they’d turn him deaf barking at him the way they did. 

She learned through trial and error that he could only handle five at most, and rarely. That they each could only go once with cock sucks sprinkled between. That it could only last an hour or two before he would pass out. Once Lance reflexively bit down on a soldier’s cock after another’s claws bit down into his back, and she had to convince them not to strangle him to death. 

But these times were ultimately blissful for Axca, she would watch in the corner of her eye as Lance choked and gasped and panted, his body savagely raped until she was satisfied. She especially liked a druid in the mix, they would use their magic to elicit vigorous handjobs from him, Ezor made sure to record those sessions. His face would sink into such a delicious shade of red.

Every once in a while she would relent and halt her tasks briefly to provide lessons to the soldiers on how to pleasure Lance better, and therefore herself. She’d have a large one fuck his ass, lift him up so others could provide other arousals, two soldiers playing with each nipple, one stroking his cock, one caressing his balls, as many different hands as possible to fondle the rest of his body. She’d have one stick their fingers in his mouth and pull so others could cum on his tongue. She’d coach each Galran to overstimulate him just right, just the way she needed so she could ride to completion in her desk chair.

She couldn’t count herself out completely, and she’d often come to him just before bed so he could get fucked one last time, by his real, true master. The one who deserved to own him. The routine became that he’d suck her off while she told him she loved him, she’d comb his hair with her claws, she’d sometimes lose herself so much she drew blood, it would run down from his forehead to his stretched lips, it would mix with her cum escaping down his chin. 

Afterwards she’d have Lance stroke her to get hard again while she molested him, she'd often have to slap him to work harder, then she’d throw him down and see how fast she could make him cum or how long she could torment him with her cock buried deep inside him, depending on her mood. She loved sweet dirty talk, it always felt odd to her pragmatic sensibilities but so strangely exhilarating, “You like that, don’t you my pet?”, “You’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you?”, “Yeah, take it, take it deep.”, “You want me to punish you so bad, I can tell.”

She finally learned of a special spot she found within him, a spot she had to angle herself to apply pressure, a spot she liked to think was just theirs. She loved to rub it rhythmically, passionately, hold him tight, lick his slick shoulder and neck and ear, tasting of salt and sugar, feel him tremble, hear him fuss in desperation behind pressed lips until he submitted and huffed hot steamy breaths as it intensified, and as he came, she relished the privilege of the sigh he’d let out always being one overflowing with pleasure.

...

Zethrid, however, gradually wore away her desire to please him. She thought of him less as a pet to play with and more of a toy to abuse as she wished. 

Yet every so often, after particularly agonizing rounds of ecstasy, she would still ask Lance to tell her if he wanted her to stop, always confident that he wouldn’t, always furious when he would.

She grew more and more monstrous with each session. She would bind him tight in chains and pronged wrist, ankle, and neck cuffs. She’d wrap his cock severely in rope and keep him at the edge until he cried and convulsed. She would have him count off the blows of her paddle on his ass, she would have him thank her for every stroke of her cane across his back. 

She would use a strange Galran device that she’d shock him with, a burning zing would tense every one of Lance’s muscles, with every subsequent spasm came a vague sense of nearing climax. Zethrid liked to use it during sex, she’d put a hand around his soft warm belly, on his shoulder, his back, his thigh, feel his pulse quicken before watching his firm beautiful muscles contour violently against his skin, she’d feel his hole seize tight around her cock. She had begun to enjoy withholding her pheromones from him, but in those moments she found it impossible. 

The sensations he gave her were so decadent and rich, from the first moment she would enter him. She felt starved when she wasn’t with him, she’d feast on him when she was. She grew insatiable, and she became more and more gluttonous with his poor Human body, she devoured it.

It belonged to the Galra now, and she would never let it go.

...

The present night, during a seemingly never-ending, late-night session, in a stupor of lusty rage after Lance had once again given her an adamant “no” when she asked him if he liked it, if he loved her, Zethrid stormed off and got Ezor to join in on the fun. 

After taking turns fucking him long and hard at both ends, drenching his face and back in cum, they slinked to the other side of the room, they whispered and colluded. Lance dozed off, he couldn’t help slipping under after every round now, he felt so crushingly fatigued. After a few peaceful moments he was smacked awake.

“We got a little surprise for you, whore.” Zethrid smirked, almost giddy. She had used her cock with her fingers, a thick vibrating sheath, but this was new and exciting and so delightfully brutal.

“Oh sweetie, this is gonna be incredible!” Ezor shimmied her shoulders and clapped her hands, she couldn’t wait.

“How..about..we..double-fuck your ass?” Zethrid teased, she leaned in close to smell his fear.

Realization flooded through him, it felt like poison, a rush of burning blood scorched him behind his eyes. “No, no please, please don’t, please don’t…” He began to cry. He hadn’t begged in a long time, he’d received enough slaps to know they’d just hurt him more, use even more force. But his whole body warned him he couldn’t take it, it was resolute in the fact. His pleas drowned in whispers, “I can’t, please, please...I can’t…please...”

Ezor tutted her tongue at him and cupped his cheeks tightly in her hands, she licked the tears from his eyes, flicked the tag on his collar. He cried harder.

She backed away and Zethrid picked him up, slid herself onto the table, she had him straddle her for a few moments, she soaked in the terror in his eyes. Then she slowly eased him onto her cock, she inserted two fingers as well, for extra punishment. 

He was shivering, weeping, too full already, so drained and sore from the long intense day he’d suffered, he buried his head in Zethrid’s shoulder, desperate for any kind of relief. 

An abrupt, bizarre rush of pity took hold and softened her, an urge she hadn’t felt before made its way to her fingertips, an urge to hold his head in her hands and stroke his hair. 

Zethrid almost felt as though these weren’t her own thoughts, as if a presence was constricting her consciousness. She suddenly leaned in to him, whispered so soft he could barely hear, “It’s going to be okay, Lance.” 

She had never used his name before, she wasn’t entirely sure she ever bothered to know it. Then in a moment it was gone, she couldn’t even remember what she had said. Reinvigorated, she lifted him up, her hand at his throat, she wanted to see his tears.

But Lance had stopped crying. He was stunned by Zethrid’s words, he somehow knew they weren’t hers.

“Relax, Baby Blue, this is gonna be a blast.” Ezor brought him back to reality. She leaned in behind him, she settled a bent leg up on the table for leverage, she lathered up her cock extra well. She poised herself at his stretched hole, she tickled the small of his back with her fingernails. As she struggled to enter him, he struggled to accommodate the stress he felt his body under, with every inch deeper it pushed further past his breaking point.

Lance understood that his body no longer belonged to him, that it belonged to whoever was in the room with him at any given moment, whoever decided that they wanted it. What he couldn’t understand was why he was still in it, why a body he wanted nothing to do with anymore still held him so tight, made him go through every revolting thing meant for something rotten and unfeeling, some simple ugly object ruined and torn apart without ever having to feel a single moment of any of it.

He screamed at the hilt.

They both began to thrust harshly into him and grunt and pull his hair and he lost feeling in his legs. Zethrid spit in his face, Ezor’s claws clamped down cruelly onto his hips, digging in. Potent flares of pheromones detonated deep inside him, lush venomous lust coursed through his body in droves. He couldn’t see straight, his mind was swimming in thick black gunk and all he could hear were their heavy hot moans and cruel swirling laughter, “I don’t think beautiful can take it,” and “The dirty tramp takes what we give him.”

But Zethrid saw the look in his eyes. As she and Ezor thrived in the thrill of it, bliss circulating through their entire systems, Lance was fainting, slipping away, she wasn’t sure he’d come back. She pumped on, pinched his chin between her fingers to keep his head up. Her mind lived for the heaven she felt in this moment, that he was hers up until his very last breath.

Then, as they first began to swell, as tremors crescendoed and his body slowly died around him, a sudden heavy calmness flushed through his nerves. He closed his eyes and was able to fantasize, something he had been too dizzy and tired and ashamed to do for a while now. He imagined being on a beach with his friends, he smelled sunblock and Hunk’s picnic and rain in the distance. His family was there, he called to them. He was glad he got to die with this behind his eyes. Then suddenly he was lighter, his body felt free, he was floating on a wave.

“Hey, what the hell!” Like from a great force of wind Ezor flew back and out of him, she slid backward until she knocked into the wall, her skin slapped against the icy porcelain and she yelped.

“Narti, what the fuck are you doing?!” Zethrid shouted at the new figure in the room as she found her hands on Lance’s hips. She gently lifted him off of her and placed him to the side, it was the gentlest touches Lance had ever experienced from Zethrid. She got up and crossed the room to join Ezor, snarling and biting at the air the entire way.

“Seriously Narti, what the fuck, we were having fun with our sweetheart! Entirely uncool,” Ezor sneered, she tried to make her way back to Lance but was glued in place by Narti’s telepathic vice.

Zethrid shook her fury off and glared at Narti, who stood over Lance, motionless, her head and the cat on her shoulder looking their way.

“May..Maybe it was a bit much for him. It’s late, the skank had a full day, we can take another crack at it after we train him some, whatd’ya say?” Zethrid nudged Ezor, incredulous that she was saying this, but she again felt a presence inside her mind. 

She scoffed at Narti’s insolence, she even almost pouted. Ever since Lance had been captured, she hadn’t had to masturbate at all, it was going to be so disappointing to relieve herself on her own tonight.

Ezor stomped her foot and huffed. “Fine, whatever. We’ll see you tomorrow then, cupcake. Thanks for nothing, Narti.”

They shuffled out of the room, angry and unsatisfied, but Narti didn’t give it any thought, glad to see them in pain for once. Her cat Kova jumped from her shoulder and landed next to Lance’s head. He was leaned over toward his side, looking languidly off in the distance, his eyelids draped over his eyes, tears pooled in the bridge of his nose before gently sliding and dripping onto the table.

Narti walked over to the wall and dimmed the lights, a serene gray bathed the room. Lance breathed in deep and relaxed. He liked this part of his day. She walked back over to him and cut away his binding, he brought his hands up to his face. Narti then bent down to the bucket at her feet, she raised a warm washcloth and laid it gingerly on his back, she patted it down his spine, over his hips, down his thighs. She made sure to be tender to his cuts and lesions and bruises. She was attentive and gentle and kind. She liked this part of her day, too. 

...

She had done it every night since his very first. Narti made sure he was stable, she bandaged him where he needed it, she applied healing salve when he needed it. She’d even cut his hair so it wouldn’t hang in his eyes, she found it quite enjoyable to brush his teeth, and when she first found she loved him she started bringing him Galran sweets, puddings and creams, things easy on his jaw, soothing to his throat, light on his stomach. She let him cry as loud and as much as he wanted while she bathed him, washed the filth of the day off his body.

She had been fascinated with the Human since she first laid eyes on him, she marveled at his sleight frame and frailty, his lean musculature, his young delicate form, what he could endure at the hands of much physically stronger creatures. He probably didn’t think so but she found him incredibly resilient, he always suffered greatly but never relinquished himself completely to them. The thought of the strength that must take was overwhelming to her.

She felt sorrow for Lance, but she treasured the time she spent caring for him. Her devotion caused her to stir every time, but she would never do anything harmful to him, although in privacy she’d touch herself to the thought that it was her sex that he would finally agree whole-heartedly under.

Narti could of course make him love it, love her, she could cloud his mind with her strong telepathic waves, she could make him do and feel anything. But she didn’t want to do that to him, she wanted him to keep hold of the will at the bottom of his heart that refused to break, that comforted him with the notion that they could have his body, but never his soul. She would sometimes suggest his hand hold hers, begin to move it, but his mind always approved the action and would join her, although even then she knew she was violating him. Only small physicalities, no mental domineering, asserting. His Humanity was too endearing.

Today she used a stronger signal to numb him from the back down, his real pain she reasoned would be far too much for him to bear. 

She soothed his sore neck with the cloth, Kova licked his forehead. She touched the birthmark behind his ear for a moment. 

She liked when he talked to her, it wasn’t often, but sometimes. One time he told her about his training and the classes he took and what he was good at and funny mistakes he made. Another she had him explain what a ‘cheeseburger’ was, she had heard of it and he had laughed at her wanting to know. Another where he began describing why he had suddenly ‘sneezed’, and the conversation had ended with him telling her shyly of everything he was ‘allergic’ to, cottonwood, strawberries, latex, all foreign to her. 

She liked getting to know him, she admired him, respected the way he was still able to summon the spirit to joke and laugh with her, however faintly. It was very brave.

Recently he talked to her about Human blemishes when she had noticed the mark. He told her he had two ‘birthmarks’, the one behind his ear and a small one on his hand, where two freckles sat beside it. These flaws immediately charmed her, and she had Kova study as she noticed more, she massaged the wrinkles on his knuckles, the braided indentations on his wrists and joints of his fingers, the folds in his palms. He had fallen asleep as she did this, she had wanted to curl up and sleep with him in her arms.

In her careful exploring Narti discovered that she found the backs of Lance’s knees very attractive. She noticed all of his joints were covered in thinner, softer layers of skin, she held and caressed them often, his knees, his inner elbows, the thin underside of his wrists. She’d purr an old Galran rhythm to him every night as he drifted off under her safe touch. Who could possibly want to harm this sweet little creature, she’d wonder.

On this night, Narti was something like heartbroken. She had shifted in and out of the room all day, at the breaking point of her temperament to allow this to go on for the sake of duty and loyalty. She observed his debasement at Ezor’s hands, his exhaustion at the hands of Axca’s gang of thugs, the lengthy torture he endured at Zethrid’s that had lasted into the night. Zethrid had asked him if he wanted her to stop, he had choked out a yes, she asked him if he liked it, he had sobbed out a no. Zethrid left in a tirade and Narti had wanted to sweep him up right then, to leave with him and never look back. 

But when she realized what was happening to him when Zethrid returned she felt something her firm shoulders had not felt in quite some time, from even before she was enlisted as a soldier. Despair. Humans were not Galrans. Humans were barely capable of handling one Galran at a time, and this Human never handled it particularly well. This Human would die, if not immediately then soon after if he wasn’t treated.

She caught the look on his face, in his eyes, and it was decided for her. All of her loyalty to this crew evaporated. 

Tonight would be the end of it.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter is pretty different from the first two? I like it I think I guess maybe, I wrote it real quick and easy, I wanted something to wrap it up haha, 
> 
> but please enjoy the other two parts if you just want some Lance smut! 
> 
> This is without a doubt the lightest nsfw of the bunch :)

Narti finished washing him and proceeded to pat him dry. Kova caught that he was asleep and pined for him, rubbing against his wet hair. Narti suddenly couldn’t seem to help herself, she knew this would be the last of their time together, she reached down and began stroking herself, her other hand rested on his hip. But she realized she didn’t have time, and he didn’t deserve that, and bent over him, breathing in as deep as she could, capturing his scent in her mind to keep.

She composed herself and applied a heavy amount of salve to his stiff limbs and his sore hips and stomach, then grabbed a light blue paper smock she had ran and grabbed before saving him. She snuck a hand under his chest and lifted him to a sitting position. Life faintly flickered in his eyes as she tucked him into the gown, lifting his arms and slipping it down his back. It felt like a blanket to him, he hugged it tight.

Narti held Lance’s face in her hands and sent him a message that brought a hint of his former self to his eyes, his jaw went slack. She brought her mouth to his, he closed his eyes and returned the affectionate energy, overwhelmed. She brought a claw up to his neck, hooked it under, and sliced. His collar slid down and landed on the table, the clinks of the tag like music. 

She then lifted up a gun, a small laser pistol. She placed it in his hands, she curled his fingers around it, she lifted it up to her shoulder, and shot.

He gasped and winced, the pistol clattered to the floor. She reached for it and placed it in his lap, where he fumbled for it, shaky, exhilarated. Something else was there, a small vial of a clear liquid, it floated around in the bottle. He looked to Narti but she provided no answers. Then in a hurried rush he felt himself stand, he hadn’t stood on his own in so long, yet he wasn’t truly alone, his legs were still numbed, something was holding him up, he felt heavy and weak but confident.

Narti’s mind guided Lance’s body out of the room, Kova at his feet, he was slow and terrified but she pushed him on. He was disoriented from the shock of a new environment, he was contained in that single room for so long. It hurt to move, he was so dazed and sore, as he rounded each corner of endless hallways he imagined a group of soldiers, Axca, Zethrid, discovering him and beating him to death right there. He fantasized of killing a few of them with their own brand of weapon as they descended upon him.

But her direction was strong, with Kova in front, Narti lead him to the loading bay as quickly as she could, she lead him through low trafficked areas of the ship, through safe dark places, as far away from Zethrid as she could manage. As she despondently allowed the torture from Zethrid and Ezor to go on, she had quickly sent out a signal to Voltron to find their fallen teammate at dock 56D, that he would need medical assistance as soon as they reached him. She had turned off all censors that could detect their ship, she had disabled the ship’s missiles. She requested stealth and discipline, she told them to come immediately. The voice that responded back sounded like it was crying.

Lance finally rounded the corner that lead to the bay. He glanced out the window and saw what he thought he would never see again. His miraculous lion, monstrously blue, it blinded him to tears.

As he began to limp toward a lever on the wall of the dock entrance, he suddenly lost the force carrying him and he fell over, he smacked against the slick metal floor, Narti's pistol slid far across the hall. He let out an excruciating cry, he felt weak unused bones splinter off, his welted flesh screamed at the pain and he suddenly felt all alone.

Narti was already weak, blood dripped down her body, it pattered onto the floor. She braced herself against the table and tried to reconnect with Lance’s body but couldn’t find it in herself. With great effort she instead flooded his mind. 

Lance felt Narti with him once again, he absorbed her directions and struggled with his body to start crawling. As soon as he found purchase the ship erupted in an unwieldy jolt as the lion attached its entrance firmly into the bay. 

He knew his body could do it, he felt not only guidance but reassurance from Narti, he hadn’t felt this strong in so long. He made his way to the wall of the dock entrance, he saw a lever and a keypad and slowly climbed up the ridges in the metal mold around it. He almost dropped the vial in his fumbling, but he made it upright, he shook in fits at the strain.

Narti began to sweat, her shoulder radiated feverish heat. She urged him to hurry, she felt the rest of the ship stir at the collision the lion caused.

Lance’s fingers found themselves typing in an unfamiliar code, his mind was fed the numbers one by one until he was able to pull down the lever. At the loud, aggressive alarm he slumped to the floor in agonizing victory, he sighed and panted and laughed in hard heaving breaths. In the distance he heard shouting, heavy footsteps.

The bay’s jaws slowly opened, every moment an eon. The sounds grew in volume and amount, the soldiers descended on him at formidable speed. Finally the doors reached their widest, and under a hazy blue glow Lance saw Keith standing there, peering blindly into the dark depths of the ship, sword in hand.

“Keith!” Lance sobbed.

Keith’s eyes adjusted and he swung his eyes around to Lance, his mouth hung open, his eyes gleamed in the dim light.

“Lance!” It was as if Lance had heard double before he saw Hunk emerge from behind Keith, canon at the ready. Keith hurried over to him, Lance folded into his arms. He did faint into the arms of his hero after all, he thought with a weak smirk, he was glad he was too tired to be embarrassed.

A cacophony of noise rained down upon them as the soldiers descended, Zethrid at the helm. She steeled at the sight of her beloved blue paladin being ripped from her, all her fantasies of him finally succumbing to her hands, of watching the light go out in his eyes as they looked into hers, suddenly spilled rabid around her. She cried out as a litany of sonic canon hits split apart her army.

Hunk moved from side to side, trying to hit as many targets he could as Keith swiftly hoisted Lance up and made his way back into the lion. Keith made it to the threshold, he reached to dive in, hugged Lance tight to his chest, when he felt a strong, severe weight at his ankle. He fell headlong and instinctively turned to protect Lance from the crash, but it opened Lance’s body up for Zethrid to attack.

Zethrid grabbed at Lance’s ankle and with a savage hiss drove forward, locking a hand around Lance’s throat and burying her gun into Keith’s.

“He’s mine, you little shit,” she snarled at Keith. She leaned down, breathed in deep, and grinned, saliva fell in globs onto Keith’s face. “Or better yet, how ‘bout two for the price of one?”

Keith bucked underneath her, he desperately pulled at his arms trapped beneath her knees. Hunk had pulled the lever, the doors began to close around them, he was too overwhelmed by the swelling amounts of soldiers rushing to them, he couldn’t find a moment to help.

“As a Galran fucks your pathetic body, you can look over, and watch him die beneath me,” Zethrid whispered so that both Keith and Lance could hear.

And with that, Narti used the last of the fight in her. 

She channeled an immense wave of shock into Zethrid, freezing her in place. She arched her back, her eyes rolled wildly upward, it lasted only a fraction of a second, not even long enough for Zethrid to register what had happened, but it was enough for Lance.

He grabbed the gun from her hands and shot her. Through her chest, as she flung back he shot her in the abdomen, sending her further, she tripped over the threshold of the gate. She crashed hard onto the floor of the Galran ship but in her fervor she rallied and began crawling toward them, screaming in Galran, she reached out for them, claws stretched as far as they could extend. Blood dripped from her fangs, spat in heaves into the air.

“This..ahhgh...isn’t...over! You can’t..hhhhkhkh...have...him!!” she howled as Keith kicked her hand back, the doors at last sealed, bullets echoed as they rained down on the metal.

The blue lion sealed it’s own doors and detached from the dock. And then. Silence.

Lance looked to his friends, blurred and wavering, slipping into nothing, in and out, but they were here. They made it to him, and his body settled itself into the knowledge that it would be healed, that it could belong to him again.

Kneeling rigid over Lance, Keith finally buckled, careful to support Lance’s head. He noticed a small bottle roll away as his friend’s hand went slack in his lap. He picked it up and inspected before it was quickly snatched away from his hand.

“Is this? It can’t be. It is!” Coran had emerged from the cockpit, dressed in a medical smock and rubber gloves, he knelt to Lance. He fiddled with the vial, intently studying its contents. 

“What is it?” Keith watched the clear gel float in globs. Lance coughed, he turned back to comfort him. Bruises and stripes of open lesions peaked out from under his smock, it burned Keith’s heart to cinders.

“It’s a type of drug used to treat Galran soldiers with post-traumatic stress, to significantly diminish painful memories so they can continue fighting. It can’t completely eradicate them, but enough to bear them. We have to inject it straight away, time is of the essence!” Coran suddenly rushed out of the room, leaving the two paladins alone.

Lance struggled, his breath thick and rattled. “H..how did…Blue....” He looked up to Keith, swaths of red and black, still holding him tight, sitting with Lance’s head in the crook of his arm. He waited for the blasts of the Galrans to crash against his beloved lion, but they never came.

“It powered up when I got to them, it wanted to come for you.” Keith’s eyes watered, he blinked it away for Lance’s sake. He pulled him closer.

Coran raced back to them, syringe in hand. He found a vein easily in Lance’s thin wrist.

Lance smiled, he dropped the gun to his side, his entire body went limp as he felt the last of her power drain away from him in a gentle goodbye, yet his veins flooded with the safe warmth he always felt when he was with her.

“Narti,” Lance breathed out, and he finally fell into black.

...

Footnote: I’m super sorry to anyone who wanted him to end up with Narti! Maybe they’ll meet again one day, I’m sure I can write something out where they do, but Narti is smart and kind enough to know he’s best off with his team members, safe with his own kind. If you love something let it go, yeah?


	4. Denouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask + you shall receive!! Lance meets Narti once again ;]
> 
> Dang turns out I really wanted to write this anyway, it was fun!! (not surprised, I do love revenge porn lmao)
> 
> This narrative keeps morphing, story is always hard to marry into smut, but it's a good time regardless :P
> 
> Explicit for violence!!

The corridors were dark and quiet, the machinery had settled for the night. Long and winding, doors and doors lined them, behind each one a different Galran, sleeping soundly. The living quarters were slightly shabby, far from pristine unlike the rest of the ship, it smelled of moist soil, bitter and ripe.

It went on and on until at last, one with the Galran insignia, etched in gold on the door. This entryway was spotless.

A device latched onto the seal. It whirred to life and began buzzing in calculations, running its power through the circuits inside the metal, it unlocked it with a short tiny click.

The slab carefully, quiety slid open, only slightly, the soft light shone in dimly through the crack, a shadow cutting it in and out as it passed through.

The walls were bare, they radiated a low heat. A window took up the entirety of the far wall, stars twinkled, peaceful, indifferent.

In the crook of the room, catty-corner to the door, a large bed held a sleeping Galran, lying on her side with her face illuminated by the vast space outside. A comet bathed her in silver.

The shadow crept onto her form, careful not to change the shade of color behind her closed eyelids. She was breathing slow shallow breaths, almost smiling.

A hand reached out to her shoulder, gloved to make sure the skin would never have to touch theirs again, it rolled her onto her back.

Axca fluttered her eyes, the features of a face slowly took shape, she stared wide, her mouth dropped open.

Lance jumped on top of her, drove his knees down into her forearms, he stabbed her jugular before she could scream.

A geiser of blood shot up from her mouth, drenched his face as he pierced her again and again, her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders. He used both hands to swing the dagger down again and again, he grunted and panted, invigorated, insatiable.

He had spent weeks and weeks in the healing chambers, he had lost so much muscle he wasn’t allowed to rejoin Voltron for a long time. He couldn’t sleep, didn’t eat. His memories faded but his scars remained, they served as notes to stay driven, devoted, he worked tirelessly for this moment.

Every slice sent hot blood at him, soaked him through.

Axca gurgled and spit, blood bubbled and burst on her lips. She struggled ferociously, she twisted her shoulders, her elbows, she writhed and writhed until she finally freed her right arm.

But she was too weak, her mind too far gone now. Lance slowed, stopped, bent over her, looked into her eyes.

She began to move, she lifted her hips, lowered them, lifted them, thrusted lightly upwards. She lifted her arm, her hand cupped his face, thumbed the soft thin skin just below his eye. She smiled a loving smile.

He felt her grow hard, and he buried the knife into her heart.

Lance inhaled long painful breaths, he arched his head back and looked out at the stars. He saw his bloody reflection in the windowpane. He wanted to cry but didn’t.

He slowly slinked off of her and stretched his shoulders back, he stretched his neck from side to side, then he gathered himself and walked quietly out of the room.

He navigated the halls once more, made sure to stay close to the dark walls. He was dressed all in the signature purple of the Galra, thick but pliant material suctioned to his skin.

As he drew closer to his target, he could hear the faint beginnings of music, effervescent notes strung up in the air. As he neared the door, bright pink light shone through the narrow crack of the seal.

Lance’s stomach turned just a little, he had counted on them being asleep. His eyes wavered, his lip quivered, he wasn’t sure he could do this. But he strove on, determined to give these beasts their due.

He delicately placed his device on the door, a beautiful gift from an amazing redheaded kid who believed in him.

It was so hard to talk about what happened to him with his teammates, every time he tried he couldn’t catch his breath, he would shrink away into his shadow more and more. He felt othered, and alone, and miserable most of the time.

He confided in Allura the most, who brought him back to reality many times before he would spin out too far. But they all cared, they all wanted to help him, Hunk would cook him every meal of the day, Keith would make him help him with tasks around the castle to clear his mind, where they would just be silent together, comfortable and quiet. Shiro helped most by never prying, he never tried to get anything out of Lance, he was always very grateful for it, he couldn’t bare Shiro even trying to imagine what the Galrans did to him.

But it was Pidge who could sense it the most, see it in his eyes. She saw him as a brother, a little brother even, she wanted to help him fight back, to win. They had devised this plan together, she had worked all the machinations out for him, she gave him a hug before he had left.

Lance breathed in as deep as he could after he heard the click, the sound dropped down his belly. As carefully as he could, he opened the iron door, his blade poised.

Everything was bubblegum pink, the plush carpet, the wallpaper of tiny polkadots, the fluffy bedspread. This room was a quite a bit smaller, no window to be seen, the light tinted by her lamp’s transparent pink shade. He found Ezor next to it, sitting at the desk, hunched over a mirror, curling her eyelashes up with mascara, humming and dancing her shoulders.

He gulped, froze and tried to figure out a pathway he could take to get to her that wouldn’t reveal him in the reflection.

He tiptoed cautiously toward her, keeping his eyes locked on the back of her head, ready to attack the moment she turned to face him. But she continued to shimmy, singing along to the Galran pop song, she smooched at her own face.

Lance peered over her shoulder, she had one eye closed as she applied thick gold gunk to the other one. The table was littered with open eye shadows and creams, a mess of shiny glittery pastels.

In the corner laid his torn pink collar, the inscription on the tag, “Baby Blue”, gleamed in the light.

He reached his hand around her and slit her neck all the way across.

Ezor watched herself gasp and choke, her hands fly to her throat, her eyes glower in pain. She managed to turn to look at him, and as soon as she saw him, her perfect beautiful sweetheart, she reached for him, grabbed at him, her clutches buried into the cloth at his chest, she pulled him to her, and as he stabbed her in the stomach she kissed him.

Blood flowed down her chest and onto Lance’s, it spurted out onto his neck, splashing up on his chin. He winced and drew away from her and saw the last of her light burn out, her jaw went slack, her eyes rolled back, she slumped to the floor.

The music continued to blare around him, he stood and stared at her body for a few moments, he shook from head to toe. He gulped a few times, the thick lump of pain in his throat kept bobbing up, burning. He turned and made his way back out into the hallway.

He felt very tired, his heart was still weakened by the trauma. He wasn’t sure this was making him feel any better about any of it, but he knew he had to do it. He walked on and on, down endless identical hallways, until he finally reached it, the last door, sitting against a dead end, far removed from the others.

He began the method of opening the door when he felt something hot coil against his neck.

“Well, look who’s back for more.”

He swung his knife around, managed to prick Zethrid’s skin with the tip before she grabbed his arm and thrusted him against the wall.

“You are without a doubt the sluttiest little thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of using,” she growled, bringing a hand to his neck. 

Lance pulled at his arm, flitted the knife around, trying to get at the skin of her wrist, it was no use. She was topless, the scars from where he shot her blasted tough on her skin.

She leaned in, crushed his esophagus shut, she licked his forehead. 

“I just can’t believe you came back.” She licked his eyeball. 

“I can’t believe I get to fuck you some more.” She licked his ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you again and again and again, I’m never gonna leave you unfilled.” She licked along his jaw. 

“I’m gonna fuck you to death this time, whore.”

When she dragged her tongue across his lips he sunk his teeth down into it.

She screeched and reeled back, her massive hands left his body. As she pounced again he thrusted the blade directly into her eye, he dragged down her skin until he split apart her lip.

She screamed, cursed, her hands dug into the wall behind him, trying desperately to grasp at his flesh, she couldn’t see him. Lance bolted around her and gashed her back, he sliced across the way the scars looked on his.

She fell to her knees, still waving her claws wildly, blood running down her arms.

“I’ll fucking kill you! When I get my hands on you, you little-”

He jammed the dagger into the back of her neck, her howls roiled down the halls, he prepared for other Galrans to appear, he felt satisfied knowing he got them all before he died. But none came, it was a miracle.

Zethrid crawled slowly away, a thick trail of blood in her wake. Lance calmly followed behind her, he tried to revel in the sight, of his victimizer suffering as she drew close to death, but he couldn’t, his heart instead ached for the time before she ever forced herself on him, before he ever felt he had to do something like this.

He walked past her and sat down, he looked at her make her way to him, every inch took a minute. Her mouth oozed blood, her bottom lip dragged against the cold floor. Her eyes stayed trained on Lance, she didn’t blink once. Her noises were gutteral, primal.

She at last grazed her fingers on his knee, she crawled them up his thigh, she trembled, gasped. He leaned down as her hand found its way to the center of his legs, she pressed a finger down, she could almost feel-

“You can never have me again.”

He slammed the knife up into her chin, up through her eye sockets, up into her brain. She opened her mouth, her tongue lulled out, impaled, blood sprayed into his face, it stung his eyes, he tasted hot liquid metal.

Her hand shrunk away from him, her whole body fell dead. The weight was too much, Lance was forced forward to the floor with her. He panted, laid there and looked at Zethrid’s big pale eyes for what felt like hours. His tears fell and mixed with her blood.

He finally, tentatively hooked a heel at the tip of her chin and pulled his blade out, her viscera dripped onto the floor.

He got up, every muscle ached, his bones creaked, he felt ancient. His shoulders heaved as he collected himself. He walked slowly, every step colder and stiffer. He found the staircase that lead below deck, it ended in darkness. He felt faint, not with exhaustion or fear, but with hope.

He made his way down each step, the lights turned on at the sense of his presence. He got to the rows of bars at the sides of the new hallway.

Lance had heard that there was a traitor on board the Galran ship, that Lotor had sentenced one of his own to wait out their days in prison for aiding an enemy combatant. They hadn’t believed her story of him grabbing her gun, shooting her, escaping back to his team. It must have been the druids, they must have seen through her lies.

He peered into empty cell after every cell, the silence clogged his ears, weighed on his heart. He stepped slower and slower, his hope diminishing with every movement.

He made it to the very end, the very last cell. He looked inside.

And there was Narti.

Her cat lifted its head first, its eyes winked their golden light at him. Narti shifted and brought her head up as well, her mouth curved up into a smile.

Lance placed his device on the coded bars and they pulled away, leaving nothing but air between them. He walked very slowly over to her, he placed his hands on the sides of her head, he drew up Narti from her seat.

She stood over him, taking him in from head to toe, she sniffed the top of his head, that clean sweet scent never left her thoughts.

She leaned down to him, she tilted her head, she pressed her mouth into his. She brought her hands up to the wings of his back, she pulled him to her, held him close.

Lance kissed her over and over, he wrapped his arms tight at her neck, his tears slid down and disappeared between their lips.

Narti purred against him, he could feel it pop and roll against his chest. She caressed his back, lifted him off the ground, he felt like they were both floating.

They finally released, he held his head against her neck for a while, she stroked her claws gently across his hips. They breathed together, in perfect rhythm.

Lance leaned back and slipped away from her, he reached to hold her hand. He backed out of the cell, her following close, he calmly lead her out to his lion sitting far away from the Galran ship, they crossed through the galaxy together, hand in hand.

And Lance finally felt at peace.


End file.
